


The Great Lobster Escape

by MariaClaire



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Boiling Lobsters Alive is Barbaric, F/M, Percy Saving Sea Creatures, Percy is a Dork, percabeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 03:23:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21172622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariaClaire/pseuds/MariaClaire
Summary: Percy, Annabeth, Sally, and Paul go out to dinner at a seafood restaurant in Montauk, but all Hades threatens to break loose when a tank of lobsters ask Percy to save them from becoming dinner. *** Disclaimer: Obviously, the characters, etc. belong to Rick Riordan, not me.***





	The Great Lobster Escape

* * *

I knew going to dinner at the seafood restaurant was a bad idea when I saw the lobster tank. It was the Friday night of Labor Day weekend, and my mom, Paul, Annabeth, and I had just driven up to Montauk for the weekend. We were all starving, so there wasn't much debate when Paul suggested going to dinner at this seafood place he knew that hopefully wouldn't be too crowded. However, I didn't really think about the fact that I, Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, the sea god, was going to a seafood restaurant until I actually walked in the door and faced a tankful of live, ready-to-cook lobsters.

"Oh gods," I muttered. While I'm not big on seafood, for obvious reasons, I don't really have a problem with other people eating it. I mean, I hate when dolphins get caught in fishing nets, but I'm not about to go on a campaign to save the tuna (sorry, tuna). Some animals are predators, some are prey; it's a law of nature. Not a very nice law, but still. That doesn't mean, though, that I was happy about seeing the lobsters waiting to be cooked.

The lobby was crowded enough that I hoped I wouldn't stick out. I leaned against the wall as far from the tank as I could get, partly hidden behind my mom and Annabeth, while Paul went up to the hostess to put our name in. _Please don't notice me, please don't notice me_, I thought desperately.

No such luck.

Like magnets pulled toward a refrigerator door, every lobster in the tank flung themselves against the glass, trying to get as close to me as possible. Several people turned around when they heard the thuds, and a few looked a little surprised about the lobsters' weird behavior, but no one paid much attention. I gulped and slid further along the wall so that Annabeth was standing between me and the tank.

"What are you doing, Seaweed Brain?" she asked.

"The lobsters are glaring at me," I said.

An older woman gave me an odd look and moved closer to her husband. Annabeth glanced over her shoulder at the tank of lobsters, who were now crawling over one another trying to get close to the glass. I expected her to roll her eyes and tell me I was being an idiot, but instead, she looked sympathetic.  
"Do you want to go somewhere else for dinner?"

"No, it's fine," I muttered, trying not to look at the tank. We were already here and Paul had said they served burgers, not just seafood. It wasn't like I would be the one eating the lobsters. Annabeth slipped her hand into mine and I felt slightly better.

Just then, Paul gestured for us to join him at the hostess stand. "Looks like our table's ready," my mom said.

Naturally, we had to walk right past the lobsters to get to the table. _Don't look, don't look, don't look_, I thought. I tried to concentrate on Annabeth's hand and forced myself to look straight ahead.

"Free us, lord."

I turned my head so fast I almost got whiplash. The lobsters had moved to stare at me out of the side of the tank as I passed it.

"Save us, lord, please."

Oh, crap. I couldn't hear them as clearly as if I'd been in the water, too, but being so close to the tank, I was just able to make out the lobsters' voices coming through the water.

"Save us, please!"

"Yes, free us!"

"Bad boiling water!"

"No cook pots!"

"Son of Poseidon, help us!"

I wanted to throw up. All I could do was stand there, frozen, just staring at the lobsters. Annabeth tugged on my hand.

"Percy, come on."

I made my feet move. "I'll be back," I whispered to the lobsters.

As we headed out of the entrance area, I noticed a few people looking at me strangely. The lady who had given me the odd look earlier was now whispering something to her husband and pointing at me. Her husband frowned. Great, they were either monsters who had just realized I was a demigod, or mortals who now thought I was insane. I fought to keep my expression neutral as Annabeth and I followed my parents to our booth. But when we sat down, I couldn't stop my hands from shaking.

Across the table, my mom and Paul didn't seem to notice; they were already looking over their menus. But Annabeth leaned over and whispered, "Are you sure you're okay?"

I shook my head. "They asked me for help. They want me to free them."

Now Annabeth was looking at me strangely. I couldn't read her expression. Then, she nodded. "So how are we going to do it?"

"Do what?"

"You said they asked for your help," Annabeth said, still whispering so that my mom and Paul couldn't hear our discussion. "We have to get them out. Preferably without destroying the restaurant."

I just stared at her. "Are you serious? You'll help me?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Of course, Seaweed Brain. I've always got your back, remember?"

"Good point." I took a deep breath. Just discussing setting the lobsters free was making me feel less like puking. "So, do you have a plan?"

"Working on it." Annabeth's eyes darted around the restaurant like she was taking measurements. Which, I figured, she probably was. I glanced around, too. The restaurant had massive windows that were open to let in the breeze. And the beach was right outside. Maybe, if we could somehow get the lobsters out the windows—.

"Got it," Annabeth whispered. Before she could elaborate, the waiter approached the table to take our drink orders.

"I'll have a strawberry daiquiri," Mom said. That distracted me from the lobster problem. My mom doesn't drink. Ever. I always figured it was because of Smelly Gabe, who had been like a walking guidance counselor's poster of why alcohol is bad. Paul looked just as surprised as me. Mom noticed us both staring at her and shrugged. "We're on vacation."

"In that case, I'll have a beer, and Percy can drive us back to the cabin. Miller Light, please," Paul said, shooting me a quick smile. I tried to return it, but my stomach twisted just a little. _This is Paul_, I reminded myself,_ not Gabe. One beer is not going to turn him into a monster._

The waiter looked at me. "I'll have a Coke," I said.

"Iced tea, please," Annabeth said, with a sweet smile at the waiter that surprised me. And, okay, maybe for a second, I was jealous. But just for a second. I'm not a crazy, insecure boyfriend, I swear. "Also, how long have you had that lobster tank?"

The waiter looked confused. He was a skinny guy with some acne issues and I'm guessing pretty girls didn't smile at him too often. "Um, I have no idea. I just started working here a month ago, so, uh, longer than a month, I guess." He blinked a couple times. "Why do you want to know?"

"Just wondering," Annabeth said. "I noticed some cracks in the glass when we were walking past it. It'd be awful if the water pressure broke the glass and the lobsters spilled out." I suddenly had to fight back a grin as I understood her plan. "That happened to an aquarium in my biology class and it made a huge mess."

"I-I'm sure it'll be fine," the waiter stammered. "But I'll mention it to my boss."

"Thanks," Annabeth said, with another smile. I was trying not to laugh, but between the looks on the waiter, my mom, and Paul's faces, it was really hard. The waiter mumbled something about our drinks and ran off. My mom raised her eyebrows at Annabeth.

"Do I even want to know?" she asked.

"Probably not," Annabeth admitted.

"Fine," Mom sighed. She picked up her menu again. "Anybody interested in getting some spinach and artichoke dip for an appetizer?"

"Sounds good, Mom," I said.

When my parents went back to their menus, Annabeth raised her eyebrows at me. I understood her implied _Did you catch that?_ and nodded.

"I'm going to run to the restroom," I announced. I figured my mom and Paul would guess something else was up, but I hoped they wouldn't question me.

My mom didn't even look up from her menu. "Try not to make a mess, sweetie."

The woman from the entrance and her husband were passing our table just in time to catch this conversation. The lady gave me a very alarmed look as she hurried to her own table. My face felt hot as I realized how that must have just sounded, but I avoided the woman's eyes and hurried back towards the entrance, where both the restrooms and the lobsters were located.

However, before I could get there, one of the chefs came out of the kitchen and plucked a lobster straight out of the tank. My stomach dropped. The lobster was thrashing in the cook's hands and I was pretty sure that if I could have heard its voice, it would have been screaming, "HELP!" I was tempted to knock it out of the chef's hands, but that wasn't exactly subtle and I really didn't want to get kicked out of the restaurant, especially not before I helped the other lobsters escape. Feeling a little desperate, I turned to look at Annabeth over my shoulder.

She caught my eye and seemed to immediately understand the situation. It wasn't like this was the first time we'd been forced to improvise. In a flash, she pulled her New York Yankees cap out of her pocket, put it on, and disappeared. Paul jumped, but my mom just shook her head, like she was resigned to the chaos, and kept her eyes on her menu. Annabeth squeezed my arm as she passed me and I assumed she followed the chef into the kitchen. Hoping she could get in and out without causing a panic, I turned toward the lobster tank. But then I noticed several people staring at me and I realized I'd been standing there an awkwardly long time. It wasn't the first time a roomful of people had looked at me like I was crazy, but right now I needed to seem normal. Thinking quickly, I turned to the hostess.  
"Where's the bathroom?"

She looked me up and down, possibly trying to decide if I was serious, then pointed to the large yellow sign that said "Bathrooms." "Just down that hallway."

"Oh, um, yeah, now I see, thanks," I said. Keeping my eyes on the floor, and trying to ignore the renewed cries of "Free us!" coming from the tank, I ducked down the short hallway and into the men's room. Thankfully, it was empty. I counted to thirty, then opened the door.

I needed a reason to stop in the entrance area so I could focus long enough to control the water in the tank. Luckily there was a poster on the wall that talked about different maritime signal flags, which I figured I could pretend to be interested in for about thirty seconds. In reality, I was trying hard to concentrate. The water pressure in the tank was slight, but it would be enough. I only had a few more seconds before standing in front of the poster would look weird, so I focused on the water in the tank. The trick would be in trying to get it to do two things at once.

Just then, there was a massive CLANG from the kitchen, like a large pot had just hit the floor. Then came the yelling, with some pretty creative cursing mixed in. Curious heads turned toward the kitchen doors, which suddenly burst open, and a lobster came flying out as if someone had thrown it (and I had a pretty good idea about who might have done that). It flew in a perfect arc over the hostess's head, over the tank full of its friends, and sailed right out the open window, onto the beach. There was a slight thump as it hit the sand.

A wild-eyed cook appeared in the kitchen doorway and as everyone turned to look at him, I took the opportunity to blow up the lobster tank. I felt a familiar tug in my gut as the water burst through the glass, while at the same time a wave lifted the lobsters out and tossed them through the window after their buddy.  
Chaos erupted in the entrance area. Several people screamed, the hostess leapt away from the tank, the cook stumbled backwards and fell into the kitchen, a little girl waved and said, "Bye, lobsters!", diners all over the restaurant were looking around and standing up to see what was going on, and the manager came rushing out to see what the heck had just happened.

I tried to look as inconspicuous as possible and quickly wove through the panicking crowd back to our table. A second after I sat down, Annabeth appeared next to me, tucking her cap back into her pocket. My mom looked at us both with her eyebrows raised.

"The lobsters wanted to be free," I said with a shrug.

My mom and Paul shared a look. "You know, I was thinking about ordering the steak tonight, anyway," Paul said.

"Everything's fine, folks," the manager announced to the restaurant at large. "Just a little tank malfunction. I apologize that there won't be lobster tonight, but please enjoy the rest of our entrées." Behind him, a waitress was carrying a mop and broom toward the tank and the hostess was helping the cook to his feet. Nobody had gotten seriously hurt when the tank exploded, which was good news.

A few tables away from us, the lady who had been giving me strange looks all evening now looked appalled. She glanced at our table, then whispered furiously to her husband. He scowled in my direction for some reason, then nodded vigorously. I thought I heard him say something about a "nice Italian restaurant up the road". The man threw down some cash to cover their drinks, then he and his wife stood and left, eyes averted as they passed our table. I wasn't too bothered. I'll take freaked out mortals over monsters in disguise any day.

Our waiter appeared with a tray of drinks. His hands shook as he set them down. "How did you know?" he asked.

"Know what?" Annabeth asked innocently.

"About the tank," the waiter said.

Annabeth shrugged. "Just a feeling." I tried to hide my grin by pretending to be interested in the menu, but out of the corner of my eye, I could see the waiter staring at us like we were from outer space.

Paul cleared his throat and the waiter blinked and seemed to remember his job. "Sorry, sir, may I take your order?"

After the waiter hurried off with our order (which did not include any seafood) and my parents were occupied with their drinks and their conversation about an essay involving lobsters by some guy named David Foster Wallace, I leaned closer to Annabeth. "You're a genius."

She gave me a real smile, much better than the one she'd given the waiter. "Yeah, well, it's kind of cute when you want to save helpless sea creatures."

I grinned back. "Maybe I should start wearing a 'Save the Whales' t-shirt."

Annabeth raised her eyebrows.

"Or not," I said.

She laughed and bumped me with her shoulder. "Let's just stick with the lobsters for now, Seaweed Brain."

She laced her fingers through mine under the table and, together, we watched through the window as a dozen lobsters made their way across the beach and escaped into the sea.

* * *


End file.
